I Like My Men With Ruffled Hair
by Gatto di Roma
Summary: It seemed as if it's been forced down, muffled. Every single wisp was smoothly combed to one side, looking calm and tidy. If it was for anyone else, Lily would've appreciated how nice it looked. But it was Potter. And on him, it didn't look nice at all. It looked just plain wrong. A one-shot about Lily and the meaning of ruffled hair and little changes.


It was bad enough she's overslept.

It was bad enough she's missed her breakfast.

It was bad enough she's broken up with her boyfriend exactly a month ago, which Marlene kindly reminded her after breakfast she didn't have the opportunity to consume.

That particular day, it was bad enough she was Lily Evans.

But, well, it's never bad _enough_, is it?

She came to the library much later than she had planned and when she finally made it to her usual studying place, she was greeted by the sight of a bunch of jabbering third-year Hufflepuffs who wolf-whistled at her sight. Slightly unnerved, she searched the whole library for a free seat––fruitlessly.

She passed by the table at which Sirius Black was laughing his ass off along with Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin and (supposedly) James Potter, unwilling to get distracted yet again.

She simply couldn't help it.

She couldn't help that funny feeling that overcame her in his presence. It wasn't actually anger, or annoyance, or anything. It was something new, that made her insides squirm. It wasn't a happy feeling––it was close to, well, jealousy, only what the hell would she be jealous for? It appeared every time Potter was around her, and seemed to grow stronger and stronger.

Not that he was a round her a lot, though. Surprisingly enough, along with all the changes, his tracks appeared to have changed, too.

At first, she was bemused, suspicious.

Then, she began to watch him more intently.

_First of all,_ she had noticed, _he is quieter. And more ... distant._

First of all, he didn't greet her with his usual extremely loud and extremely embarrassing 'Eeeeevaaaans!' in this happy-puppy voice of his. Actually, he didn't show up in her compartment at all, which surprised her. Then she thought, _He__'__s up to another mischief, to be sure. Bloody Potter._

She wouldn't confess it to anyone, even herself, but she kind of... missed his presence? She shuddered, and quickly shook off the very thought.

It was... bizarre.

Later, as she made it to the Gryffindor table at the feast, she found herself sitting right next to him, and nearly gave a start.

'Potter!' she wondered.

She... she didn't recognize him at first. How was that even possible? She stared at him disbelievingly.

Then she realised he didn't call her name. Actually, he didn't say her name either. Or smile. Or look at her. He didn't do anything, for that matter.

Only when she had cried his name, did he nod.

And, after a while, 'Hullo, Evans.'

Just that. A nod, in her general direction. And two meaningless, annoyingly polite words.

No "honey", no "missed me, Evans?", no "Wotcher, Lils!". No nothing.

Just a plain courteous greeting, accompanied by fleeting look––not even his usual wistful gaze.

Lily was alarmed, to put it mildly.

She certainly didn't expect that. She had even prepared a list of snappy retorts over the summer, which she was all too willing to thrust upon him in order to make him shut up.

And suddenly James Potter was no longer... James Potter.

'What's going on, Potter?' she asked warily, squinting at him.

He looked up at her, surprised.

'Why?' he asked, raising his eyebrows so that his glasses slid down his nose slightly. 'Is something wrong?'

She couldn't believe her ears. He was now looking at her her with an expression of polite interest, the one you'd be wearing while watching a mildly interesting TV programme.

'You seem so... unlike you,' she managed after a while, still rather suspicious.

'Do I really?'

He smiled softly (she was perplexed––that was the kind of thoughtful not-so-happy smile Remus Lupin would sport, but definitely not James Potter!).

'I dunno, Evans. But, you know, people change.'

And then he simply returned to his conversation with the mentioned Remus Lupin, completely disregarding her presence.

Now, Lily wasn't _alarmed._

She was _terrified._

Not even with the fact that the New James seemed to have replaced the old one for granted, and wandered through school doing no awful pranks and being genuinely amiable and approachable and affable for anyone in their way (that was even quite okay).

No, she was horrified because the New James (she couldn't even call him "Potter" anymore!) seemed utterly and completely _oblivious_ to her.

He, of course, was genial towards her, talked to her during prefect sessions or when they were paired together in Potions, but it was nothing but "Can you pass me rotten mandrake leaves, please? Thank you."

Just it.

He hardly even addressed her by the name, but kept using the term "you". She missed his sarcastic "Evans" more than she was willing to admit.

_He doesn__'__t seem to fancy me anymore,_ she had noticed. _He doesn__'__t even seem to be interested at all._

After a couple of weeks, Lily felt like screaming.

At first, she didn't understand what was happening. She wasn't exactly fond of him, was she? She should've been glad he wasn't stalking her all day and night and following her like some particularly nasty-tempered puppy dog (like he used to do).

But he wasn't even _looking_ at her.

Finally, she decided to confide in Alice Griffiths. Fearing that Marlene would see through her and find out that––Merlin prevent!––she's in the slightest interested in Potter, she chose the friend that wouldn't know her that good.

'Did you notice,' she began conversationally, 'how weird Potter's acting lately? I mean, seriously.'

Alice gave her a quizzical look. 'Is he really?' she seemed surprised.

So was Lily. Again, she didn't expect the events to take this angle. Alice was supposed to agree with her, and confirm her observations.

'Um, I guess so,' she went on, slightly unnerved. 'Haven't you noticed?'

Alice pondered. 'You know, now you've mentioned it, he is kind of calmer this year,' she said thoughtfully. 'Like, he doesn't do those idiotic pranks all the time.'

Lily was relieved, 'Yes, and he's actually nice. It's like, he's not a jerk he used to be. Like... he's up to something.'

But Alice shook her head, 'I haven't noticed.'

Lily's eyebrows sky-rocketed.

'He's still a jerk?' she ventured hopefully.

'No, he's actually––well, I know you don't like him, but he was never really a jerk to me,' Alice said apologetically (it was significant for Alice Griffiths to apologise for anything that would be upsetting for anyone), 'He was a bit immature, with all of those pranks ... and I'm not defending him, what he did to Snape was awful,' she said quickly as she spotted Lily's expression, 'I know you're friends with––'

'––I'm not,' Lily said quickly. 'Go on.'

'Well, I'm just trying to say he and James really hate each other. And really, James could be quite amazing when he's not showing off. He helped Frank a lot with Quidditch, you know.'

Frank Longbottom was Alice's boyfriend.

'And I really can't say if he's changed this year. But for me, he pretty much was the same before,' Alice said. 'But, well, you're probably right.

Lily wished really hard she really was.

But she was starting to see she wasn't.

_It__'__s not that I didn__'__t notice the real James before,_ she had noticed. _It__'__s just I didn__'__t want to admit it to myself._

As she watched more closely, she realised Alice was right.

He was still laughing, and being his merry Potter-self with his Quidditch attitude, running his hand through his hair and winking. He matured (Dear Lord, he even quit smoking!), she could see that, but even so, he stayed the same person she used to get annoyed with, doing the exact same things.

The difference was, he was no longer doing them for Lily.

_I don__'__t hate him,_ she had noticed. _I__'__m in love with him._

Painful.

The realisation was painful indeed. Two months have passed since James Potter's spectacular change (or in fact, the lack of spectacular change), and Lily was still feverishly reliving the brief moment previous year when they both tried to make friends, and ended up falling out really bad.

She remembered when they had been getting along pretty well––actually, she was starting to really really like James Potter. She remembered they once snuck out of the castle and ended up hiding from Filtch and giggling like mad, pressed tightly against the wall. She remembered she loved his smell––though she couldn't actually describe it, she loved it. She remembered the way he smirked, and laughed heartily. She remembered him calling her 'Lils' and teasing her mindlessly.

For a precious, blissful period of two months, they were real friends.

And then Sirius Black had played that trick on Severus.

She remembered being scared something might've happened to her old friend, but she also remembered she'd been angry––angry with James, that something might've happened to him.

He didn't understand it was his recklessness she had been angry about––he thought she simply defended Snape (well, she didn't understand her feelings either so she couldn't exactly disagree with him).

What obviously led to an argument.

She had called him a jerk, a bastard, she had yelled at him it was a bad idea to get along from the start. She had accused him of defending Black.

He had said she's been blind for not noticing how Snape really was, that "fine, he won't bother anymore", and that she was hopeless.

'And you're right!' he had yelled, as she had furiously withdrawn, 'It was a bad idea from the very start!'

They hadn't spoken to each other till the summer break, when they had coldly agreed they would use some peace.

And now, after nearly two months of James Potter being friendly with her, but not in love with her, Lily Evans was unhappy.

Because she discovered something.

_But it doesn__'__t matter,_ she had noticed. _Because it__'__s too late._

She was in love. She's been in love for a long time, actually.

Only _he_ wasn't. Not anymore.

She finally spotted an abandoned table in the probably dimmest and dustest corner of the library, where only one person was sitting. She threw her bag onto the seat, and asked, quite desperately,

'Would you mind if I sit here?'

The boy looked up and Lily nearly suffered a heart attack.

It was Potter, yes.

But what the buggering hell did he do with his hair?

'Evans,' he glanced at her sideways and quickly returned to his Transfiguration essay. 'Uh, not at all.'

She plonked down onto the seat opposite to him, still gawking.

What. The. _Hell?_

One of the things she's always hated about James Potter was his hair.

Ruffled to the point of constant messiness, it was so untamed, so... _James Potter._

His hair was basically him––hardly ever doing anything that he was expected to do, slightly crazy, and not a bit under control.

And she kept catching herself thinking of running her fingers through this hair, and messing them ruthlessly even more.

She was just so annoyingly attracted to it, ever since the very first days of school. She remembered Severus whining about how stupid Potter was, so pathetically making it look like he's just jumped off his broom. She remembered also quietly disagreeing with him.

Potter _was_ showing off.

But his hair was awesome, too.

Now, however, as James Potter bent over his parchment, his eyes fixed upon his textbook, a frown of concentration on his forehead, his hair was perfectly and utterly... sleek.

It seemed as if it's been forced down, muffled. Every single wisp was smoothly combed to one side, looking calm and tidy.

If it was for anyone else, Lily would've appreciated how nice it looked.

But it was Potter. And on him, it didn't look _nice_ at all.

It looked just plain _wrong_.

'What now, Evans?' even his voice was seductively mischievous, James-esque. She found herself scowling at him, or, more precisely, at his new hair.

'Nothing,' she said harshly.

'Am I really that filthy, huh?'

_If only you were filthy,_ Lily thought longingly. _If only you were._

'No,' she said tersely, still glaring.

James Potter looked up, his hazel eyes peering at her shrewdly. Lily didn't manage to wipe the scowl off her face in time.

'Yeah, right,' he muttered, smirking.

Oh, she hated that smirk so much. The way his lips curved, pouting slightly was almost saying _"__kiss me, if you dare__"_.

Lily clenched her teeth and fixed her eyes on her hands. Surprised, she discovered that she hasn't even taken her book out of her bag yet.

She did it, quite fiercely, and slammed the book open on the desk.

After finding the right page, she realised Potter was watching her, weird look in his (infuriatingly endearing) eyes.

'_What?_' she growled.

'Nothing,' he said quickly. He glanced at her for the last time, fleetingly, and returned to his essay. 'You've always been a pathetic liar, Evans.'

'I'm not––' she trailed off. He was smirking, in his old way.

Lily's heart seemed to have melted, warm feeling overcoming her. She nearly smiled at him sweetly.

But then she noticed them. The top buttons of his shirt. Buttoned up. Up to his collar, to be precise. Neatly. _Nicely_.

She looked back at his lips––the smirk was gone, too. The _á __la_ Remus Lupin face was back.

And hell, it _bothered_ her.

A monster awoke inside of Lily, burning like a flame.

His hair. His collar.

His Jamesness, for Merlin's sake!

She wanted it back the way it used to be before.

She was now staring at him with her eyes blazing, a storm raging inside her, only one thought in her mind: _Oh, if I got him in my hands, I swear..._

'Do you happen to know what the seventh use of moonstone is?'

Lily started at his voice, colour rising to her cheeks.

'Commonly used in healing,' she spluttered. Potter nodded absent-mindedly and scratched his nose with the point of his quill.

'Thanks, Lils,' he muttered.

Lily gulped. When did he last call her 'Lils' like that?

She forced herself to focus on her textbook. What was happening? Her melancholic quiet crush on James was suddenly replaced by a savage desire to practically pounce on top of him and run her hands through his hair while––

Lily shook her head firmly, her eyes fixed upon the parchment. The thoughts that crossed her mind weren't sensible in the slightest ... but still ...

His _hair_...

Lily leapt to her feet rapidly, nearly knocking the table over.

Potter looked up, alarmed.

'Is something wrong, Evans?' he asked, sounding amused. 'You look like you're going to be sick.'

For a brief moment, Lily seriously considered running away.

But she did have honour, after all.

So she merely spun around and turned to the bookshelf. 'No. I'm just looking for a book,' she lied quickly.

She scanned the titles, unseeingly, and prayed for Potter to get back to his essay. Sure of him watching her, she danced on her tiptoes, acting out a try to reach a higher shelf.

She didn't expect, though, that James would get up quickly and flank her from behind, reaching for the book she "needed."

He did.

All of sudden, she was surrounded by his smell––he must've been freshly showered, because he smelled of shampoo, his cologne, and this one and only James-ish smell she adored.

Lily inhaled deeply, momentarily stunned, and then held her breath, feeling dizzy. Meanwhile, Potter reached for the book she pretended to need and handed it to her.

'There,' he said with a smirk. '_Twenty-Two Effective Ways To Teach Your Dragon How To Sing._ No idea why you need it, but here you are...'

His hair was damp. Not wet, but slightly moist, after a shower. And it was smoothened by a comb, starting slowly to get messy again. If only she had an occasion to...

'Thank you,' she said abruptly, grabbed the book, and withdrew her hand very quickly. 'Now, if you excuse me––'

She swirled around, rushing off.

'Evans.'

_Don__'__t turn around. Don__'__t turn around. Don__'__t turn around._

'Your bag's still her,' sounding amused.

Aw, _bugger._

Lily turned around, flushed, and returned for her bag, aware of Potter watching her curiously.

'What's wrong, Evans?' he ventured yet again, as she tried to stuff her things quickly in the bag. 'I mean, honestly, you're acting as if I've just murdered your grandmother.'

'Am I really?' Lily said in a choked up voice, trying fruitlessly to zip up her bag.

'Yeah, well, I've never known you can despise me even more,' James stated, sourly, 'but apparently––''

The last thin string inside Lily Evans broke. She let the bag fall to the floor with a clatter.

What the _hell_ was he saying?

'_Despise_ you?' she said shrilly, turning to Potter and staring at him wide-eyed. Her heart was hammering so quickly she thought it might explode.

'Isn't it what you do?' he raised his eyebrows, his expression sulky. 'Scowling and glaring, and throwing me those looks of total disapproval––saint Lily Evans would get dirty by sitting at the same table with ugly bad James Potter ...'

Outraging unfairness of this statement stung Lily hard.

'I'm not––now, it's just stupid!' she breathed. 'I don't think like that!'

'Yeah, right,' James grunted, bitterly. 'And yet here you are, rushing out of the library just because I happen to be sitting here––'

The monster inside Lily awoke again, raging.

'Well, what did you _think_?' she hissed, stepping toward him like in trance, her eyes blazing. 'Getting here all freshly showered and smelling like that, doing such a thing to your hair, I mean, _how could you_? It's like, did you do this on purpose, meaning to distract me, buttoning your stupid _shirt _up to your stupid _neck_ and smoothing your _freaking_ hair? Because it's not––'

'Whoa, wait! What the _hell_ are you on about, Evans?' James chimed in.

He was blinking in confusion as he stared at her, apparently understanding what was happening.

'I'm about––I'm––_like you don__'__t know what_,' she whined.

Her heart was racing, her senses hazy. All she was able to see was his face, his beautiful lovely stupid face with that stupid clueless adorable expression on it, and his hair that needed so much to be messed.

'I don't know wha––uhh––'

Lily no longer cared.

She seized him by his shirt and hauled him close, her lips crushing roughly into his, cutting him off in the middle of the sentence.

_Oh,_ she noticed, _it feels hella right._

She kissed him sweet, by all of her heart. She put all of her force in this kiss, all of her desperation, all of her anger. She bit at his lip, trying to express all of her hidden stifled emotion. She's never kissed anyone like that before.

But there was only one James Potter, after all.

She pulled back gently, still clutching at his shirt, and opened her eyes.

He was staring, astounded. His eyes round as galleons, his mouth hanging open, he seemed frozen in shock. He stiffened in her kiss and stayed like that even after she'd pulled away, and for a moment she doubted if she hadn't ruined something.

For a moment, she thought he'll push her away.

But then, he reacted.

He kissed her back, with such enthusiasm that he nearly slammed her against the bookshelf.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, it was passionate, it was happy, and wild, and untamed and it was all she wanted it to be.

It was James, after all. Her James.

She shoved her hands into his hair, still moist from the shower, running her fingers through it, and kissing him senseless. She pressed herself even tighter to him, breathing in his smell, her hands entangling his hair and––

He pulled back all at once, with a strangled moan.

Lily gasped for breath, flushed, and leaned back to the bookshelf.

James was standing in front of her with his hair as preciously ruffled as it used to be, panting heavily and staring at her in pure amazement.

'What––what the hell?,' he uttered, his voice choked up and husky. 'Did you just––like, you just––you're––'

He seemed out of words. Finally, he managed weakly, 'Merlin on a bike, Evans! If... if I was sure of anything in my life, it was you _hated_ me, especially after that Snape Story!'

'I didn't.'

Lily was surprised she was able to speak at all.

James face lit up suddenly, glowing from the inside, and she thought her heart was genuinely going to leap out of her chest.

'But I thought you don't fancy me anymore,' she said, matter-of-factly.

James Potter shook his head, very slowly, still gazing at her with his blazing eyes.

'It's impossible, Lily Evans, to ever stop loving you. Just impossible.'

And next while she was in his arms, her hands sinking in his messy, messy, hair, his lips on hers.

She pressed herself to him so tightly they fell to the floor, kissing thoughtlessly. Lily's hands traveled to his collar, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt joyfully.

She nearly squealed in satisfaction when she finally freed his neck and chest from the awful shirt, her hands sliding down his skin. It was smooth and warm, and it felt so good against hers.

She let out a small moan when James started kissing her neck. His hands stroked against her waist, as she returned to his hair, pressing her lips to his forehead, and whispered,'

'I don't hate you.'

His lips crashed into hers immediately, one of his hands in her hair, the other caressing the skin of her stomach. Lily entwined her fingers with his hair, snuggling tighter to him.

'_Lily,_' he managed weakly.

'I love you,' she breathed into the kiss. He tensed for a moment, and then suddenly his whole body relaxed, and she felt him grin broadly under her lips. He nuzzled her tightly, still grinning, as if these three words were all he ever wanted to hear. 'I love you,' she murmured again, 'I love––mmpf,' she cut over her with another kiss, and she let him press her to the floor with the whole weight of his body. '_I love you._'

It was just right, so damn right, and––

A clatter of falling books brought Lily back to the earth. Still in James's arms, her fingers entangled in his hair, her eyes fluttered open. She jerked her head backwards just to spot Madam Pince lurking in between the shelves, the books she's been holding laying loose on the floor, an expression of utter horror plastered to her face.

Lily's mind scanned the situation in a split of second––they were laying on the floor, James's body in between her legs, entwined in a tight embrace, with their hair ruffled and their shirts unbuttoned. It definitely wasn't the kind of situation Lily Evans would wish to be spotted by the livid librarian.

She glanced back at James, wide-eyed.

To her surprise, he was beaming at her.

'Well, shit,' he said happily.

And then the hell broke loose.

'So, Moony, what was that you were saying about the seventh use of the moonstone?' Sirius Black asked lazily, leaning comfortably on the bench the Marauders were occupying.

Remus Lupin, sitting opposite to him, glared from above his parchment.

'_Siriusly_, Padfoot, get your sorry arse up and get the book by yourself,' he smiled sweetly, before returning to scratching the essay.

Peter giggled obediently. Sirius disregarded both him and the pun, still hoping for Moony's help.

'You know, you really _could_ do something for your dear friend––'

'Remind me, when did you last do something for _me_, you sodding prick?' Remus cut over him, rolling his eyes.

'What can I say?' Sirius spread his arms hopelessly. 'You're just so purely brilliant, dearest Re––'

'Sod _off_, Black,' Moony grunted, not even bothering to look up.

'Always acting like an old couple,' Marlene commented, smirking. 'Seriously, you two will get married some day.'

Remus merely rolled his eyes again, still writing, and Sirius shrugged. 'I see you're getting closer and closer to the "Female James", Tucker. He's saying that like three times a day.'

'He is,' Peter confirmed quickly.

'Well, he's quite right,' Marlene said.

Sirius sighed.

After James had showed up at breakfast table wearing his shirt neatly buttoned up to his collar and his hair smoothened, and declared he's going to study alone all day and focus on what's "really important", Sirius was annoyed enough to act on impulse.

Marlene Tucker, sitting a few seats further, appeared to have no Lily Evans on her side. Encouraged by that, Padfoot loudly suggested she wouldn't manage to replace Potter because she was 'too stuck up'.

Predictably, it didn't work out as planned.

James barely looked at him wearily and rushed off to "learn", and Marlene ended up having taken his usual seat in the library and acting exactly how a female James would've acted.

Nevertheless, Sirius was bored.

Tucker, as funny as she tried to be, simply wasn't Prongs even in a half. And Remus turned on his _"__I__'__m working so you__'__d better not disturb me, wanker__"_ mode, which was unswitchable-off and fairly infuriating.

Padfoot was just about to start taunting Wormtail just for fun, when they heard it.

'WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN IS HAPPENING HERE?!'

Madam Pince's deafening high-pitched squeak could've woken up a dead man.

'_Uh-oh_. Someone's in trouble,' Sirius murmured contently. 'She's _livid_.'

Pleasure in his voice was as clear as the sky outside the window. Moony rolled his eyes.

'I wonder, who is it this time? Now that you're sitting here and James isn't James anymore...' he smirked.

'Ha-ha. Funny,' Siruis grunted.

'DEPRIVED! FOULED! TWISTED! PERVERTED! THIS IS THE LIBRARY, NOT A PUBLIC HOUSE, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!'

'Oh, dear, it's a couple!' Peter said excitedly.

Remus shook his head in disbelief, 'You two really _are_ hopeless.'

'I wonder who––' Sirius began, but was quickly cut off by another scream.

'POTTER AND EVANS! OUT! OUT OF THE LIBRARY! A LIFELONG BAN! AND DETENTION! I REPEAT: DETENTION! FOR THE SAKE OF MERLIN, OUT!'

Sirius was grinning devilishly as he met Remus's eyes.

'Looks like James wasn't learning after all,' he said gleefully.

'But Alicia Evans?' Marlene said with disgust. 'Seriously?'

'OUT OF MY EYES! OUT!'

'I'm wondering,' Remus said slowly, thoughtful, 'why did James risk doing it in a library if he knew that she'll find him... I mean, not for _Alicia Evans_, for sure––''

_BANG!_

James Potter skidded to a halt and bumped into the table violently, nearly knocking it over. His shirt was unbuttoned, displaying his bare tanned chest (Marlene let out a small moan), his hair was a total mess and his glasses crooked.

Other than that, he was wearing a grin that completely misfit the situation he was in. If not for the shrieks of Madam Pince, Sirius would've thought James has just won the Quidditch championship all by himself.

'Prongs?' he ventured.

James, still simpering as if he was mental, ran his fingers through his hair absent-mindedly in a dreamy manner.

'What the––' Marlene began.

Just then, another person stormed to their table, bumping into James forcefully.

Sirius's jaw dropped.

It was a girl, a stunningly pretty girl with a cascade of now ruffled auburn hair and wide brightly green eyes, whose shirt was distinctly dishevelled and partially unbuttoned and whose cheeks were positively crimson.

('_Lily_ Evans,' Peter whispered.)

'RUN!' she cried shrilly, seizing the beaming James's hand and hauling him after her, out of the library.

Padfoot managed to catch Prongs's triumphant smile, before the library doors slammed shut behind them.

A minute later, the Marauders and Marlene were still staring at the doors like frozen. And then––

'Ya-HOO!' Remus exclaimed, throwing his fist into the air and grinning almost like James did. 'It seems I've won an awful lot of money, didn't I? I've told you she loves him back! I _knew it!_'

Sirius gawped at him, speechless.

James Potter... and Lily Evans?

Is that even... _possible_?

After all those years?

_Merlin_, Sirius thought grimly, scowling at the very smug Moony as he handed him his money, _their kid will conquer the world, at least._


End file.
